


Equilibrium

by tyrannosaurus_rose



Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Creepy Reno, Creepy Tseng, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Female Characters, Female Friendship, Female Protagonist, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Violence, POV Female Character, Trolling, Trolling Reno, Turk-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 03:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4464260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrannosaurus_rose/pseuds/tyrannosaurus_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For two thirds of her life, Aerith lives under the supervision of the Turks.  Over time, it's only natural that her relationship with each of her uneasy guardians grows and changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seven

From the time she was a little girl, Aerith had always hated the Shinra.  She had only vague impressions of her life before she was brought to the labs, mostly crafted from stories her mother told her:  a home made in a chilly, snowy, place; a drooping moustache; a warm fire and food that was filling and wholesome.  They were happy impressions, nothing like the clear, hated memories she retained from the labs in the Shinra tower.  Aerith shuddered.  If she never, ever went back there, it would be too soon. 

She remembered a lot about the day she and her mother finally escaped that prison.  Aerith was full of hope and worry, for a better life, for the dangers she and her mother would face.  And then suddenly, her mother wasn’t holding her hand anymore, wasn’t rushing her along, trying to move quickly while blending in with the crowd in the train station.  She was still, and only her voice remained, telling Aerith not to be afraid, to go on without her.  The Shinra had done that. 

She lived with her new mother now, enjoying the freedom of her new life away from the Shinra.  Ifalna wasn’t there in person, to hold her hand or braid her hair or tuck her in at night, but they still talked to each other every day, and Elmyra was there to do everything Ifalna couldn’t, and more.  With two mothers, Aerith was never lonely, never hungry, never cold or scared or lost – until _he_ came, and reminded her that she would never really be free.    

He was ‘Tseng, of the Turks,’ and that meant he worked for the Shinra.  He told her she was different, special, the last of an ancient race.  He told her she would lead the people of the world to the Promised Land, and everyone would be happy, which was ridiculous, because the same things couldn’t possibly make _everyone_ happy.  He told her that the President of the Shinra wanted this of her, and what the President wanted, he got.  Tseng had come to take her back to that place. 

Aerith wanted to deny it all.  It couldn’t be true – she was just a little kid.  She didn’t know the way to the Promised Land.  And she had been to the Shinra: she knew what it was like there, and it wasn’t happy for anyone.  It wasn’t just the tower, either!  They had built this whole city, and Aerith lived below it with countless others.  The Shinra offered them many promises, but none of the people who lived near Aerith had ever seen them make good on one.  How could a company like that lead the way to happiness, even with her help? 

Besides, this Promised Land sounded far away.  Aerith wanted to stay here, where she was, with her mothers and her flowers and the little abandoned church she liked to visit.  Leaving all that to go somewhere else sounded like a bad idea, even dangerous.  What if they couldn’t come back, once they had gone?  Would they abandon the Planet in the pursuit of happiness?  If they couldn’t return to it, how would they ever find eternal peace?  The Shinra didn’t know what they were asking of her. 

She wouldn’t do it.  


	2. Ten

The first time he had been assigned to watch her, Reno thought it would be funny to introduce himself by sneaking up behind her and grabbing her.  Thinking she was being kidnapped, a ten-year-old Aerith responded by slamming her elbow backwards into his face,  which resulted in Reno swearing like a Sector 6 drunk and shoving her away from him.  Off balance and trying desperately not to crush the flowers she had been tending, Aerith tripped and badly sprained her ankle. 

Ever since then, Reno preferred to greet her by waiting in the church doorway until she acknowledged him.  For a while, Aerith thought this was out of deference to her, especially when she heard Tseng had really chewed Reno out over the ankle incident.  (Tseng even came by with a Cure for her, which she had naturally tried to refuse, but since she hadn’t been able to run away he won that one.)  When she found out it was really more out of his own efforts of self-preservation – she had apparently given him a very bad (and, in her opinion, well-deserved) black eye – she felt a swell of pride.

Even knowing she had injured him, if only superficially, Aerith was never comfortable around Reno.  If she was absorbed in what she was doing, he would stand there staring at her for hours on end, never so much as clearing his throat as he dutifully watched over her.  If she did notice him, that was all the invitation he ever seemed to need: he had never waited for her to actually invite him to come in, or to stay.  Well, no Turk had, and the church didn’t really belong to her, but Reno acted as if a simple glance in his direction was the equivalent of a warm welcome. 

And Reno definitely acted welcome.  He had none of Tseng’s reserve, and chatted animatedly with her nonstop whenever she let him in.  She didn’t like him: for all his friendliness, he was more frightening, more violent, more deadly than Tseng.  If Tseng was a large and somewhat ferocious – if generally calm and extremely well-trained – guard dog, Reno was a viper.  He always gave her the impression he was just waiting for the opportune moment to strike, and when he did, it would be with a ruthless efficiency that would leave her completely unable to respond.

He talked endlessly on all manner of subjects. He seemed to know something about everything, and Aerith sometimes regretted being so frightened of him, but that dangerous edge in him never softened.  It was there when he talked about geography, in his subtly tactical descriptions of high ground, of natural fortifications, of terrain that made it difficult for your pursuers to track you.  It was there when he spoke on the places he’d traveled and the people he’d met, in how he manipulated cultural protocol to get what he wanted, abused the kindness of strangers, and lied and told the truth at random, for no reason at all other than to see how people would react. 

He elucidated on the politics of Midgar, dropping so many names and secrets Aerith’s head spun, and she blanched and felt sick to know these were the men and women who ran the Shinra, determining the fates of people the world over.  All of Reno’s stories just served to reinforce her hatred of that all-powerful company, her will to resist it with everything she was, her determination never to go back there.  And Reno himself was such an unbiased reporter, Aerith was left wondering if he actually condoned their behavior or had just stopped questioning it.

Sometimes he discussed more mundane things, like the weather.  Aerith had no idea what most of it meant: he complained that it was stuffy under the plate, but Aerith had no recollection of what fresh air was like, or how it was different or better.  It was always somewhat dim and never rained or snowed under the plate, but they had seasons. The plates made for terrible insulation, and summers were sweltering hot and so humid Aerith sometimes felt like she was drowning, while winters were so bitterly cold ice rimed over the heaps of scrap metal and the residents took to huddling together around trash cans and burning anything flammable they could get their hands on in an effort to stay warm.  Reno talked about these changes as if they were a mix of mild inconvenience and background worth noting and preparing for but not worrying over. 

Reno didn’t seem to worry much about anything, it turned out.  He _was_ frightening, in his cold, cruel way, Aerith thought, but… the next time she caught him tromping on her flowers, he was going to get another elbow to the eye. 


	3. Twelve

A floorboard creaked behind her, near the entrance to the church she thought of as hers.  She didn’t turn or call out a greeting, instead keeping her attention fixed on the flowers growing up through a wide hole in the church floor, where hardwood paneling had been stripped away to reveal raw earth.  The church was dim, like everything under the plate, but the flowers seemed to bathe in their own soft light.  They were her inspiration: overlooked by nearly everyone, appearance unassuming and even delicate, they still managed to grow and thrive in a place where little else did.  To Aerith, they were a reminder of subversive will power.  At twelve she was still mostly a child, but she was a serious child, and she did her best to defend her flowers.    

Although he hid in the shadowy corners of the room, Aerith could tell it was Tseng behind her, almost as if she could somehow sense his presence.  She was so keenly aware of him she felt she could hear him in the heavy silence of the old church, but he was good at what he did, and no more floorboards creaked.  But she couldn’t help but think of him, and shudder.  Many people had returned to the planet because of him; some people, quite recently.  Returning to the planet wasn’t a bad thing, but it could be sad, and should always be treated with gravity and respect… and yet Tseng never seemed to care. 

For his part, Tseng made no move to greet her, either.  The single creak in the board near the entrance was as much as he would allow himself by way of announcing his attendance; she would notice him or not, and care about his presence or not, and it made no difference to him.  As far as he was concerned, she was a wild animal, who would only become accustomed to him, tame, as long as he showed her patience, gentleness, and respect.  He had little respect for her, and he was not a gentle person, but patience he had in spades, and he would wait her out, as he had been waiting all this time. 

He watched her shiver, and wondered if she was frightened or cold.  The church wasn’t heated, after all, and fall would turn to winter soon.  Somehow, her flowers always bloomed on, impervious to changes in temperature and season, but she was more delicate than the flowers, and far more important.  She was the key to his future, to all their futures, the guide who would lead them to the Promised Land.  All the people of the Planet would know true happiness when she fulfilled her purpose; until then, he would do what he must, what he was not good at, to ensure her safety. 

He walked on feet cat-silent to stand behind her, and then, smoothly, he hoped, unzipped his jacket and shrugged out of it so he could drape it over her shoulders.  He was sure he didn’t imagine her flinch.  Frightened, then, and of him.  He didn’t let himself sigh, but he had clearly startled her, and it would not do to let her spook.  “Stay warm,” he instructed sternly, and swiftly retreated back into his shadows. 

She didn’t put her arms through the sleeves, but she didn’t move to take the jacket off, either.  It was frightening to have someone as imposing as Tseng keeping watch on her, but in a way, it was also reassuring.  Change was scary, and she didn’t feel ready for the future the Turks promised her, but as long as Tseng was trying to keep her warm, safe, here, it meant he wasn’t trying to take her somewhere else.  And her church was a little chilly.  


	4. Fourteen

She was getting ready to scream and hope for the best when she heard the soft bzzt of an electro-mag rod.  The monster toppled.  Reno stood behind it, grinning and looking just as unruffled as ever.  (Aerith had long-ago decided his permanent state of dishevelment had to be on purpose.)  “Yo, sis,” he said genially, raising a hand in greeting.  Glancing around, he added, “A little far from your usual stomping grounds, aren’t we?” 

Never one to pass up an opportunity to surprise Reno, Aerith responded by flinging herself into his arms and bursting into tears.  Reno was still creepy and manipulative and generally made Aerith’s skin crawl, but he had saved her life.  She knew how to be grateful.  “Thank you,” she mumbled into his jacket. 

“I’d’ve been the one in trouble if you got yourself killed on my watch,” Reno said, clearly trying to be gruff.  Aerith made a mental note of his discomfort – he clearly wasn’t happy around tears – or maybe crying women? Or maybe it was just her?  She would have to do more research – before he continued, “but, uh…” he nudged the monster with his boot, looking back and forth from it to Aerith, “it’s not like I killed it, y’know.  Let’s be long gone before it wakes up?”

Aerith agreed heartily, and, getting herself under control, allowed him to guide her back in the direction of her home.  It was weird, being escorted around the slums by Reno, of all people.  She didn’t usually see any of the Turks while she was out and about, whether she was visiting the market or watching over some local kids at the playground.  The Turks even avoided her home, for the most part: her mom knew they were still watching Aerith, but there was nothing much she could do about it.  After all, they worked for the Shinra – if they wanted to keep surveillance on her “adopted” daughter, who legally didn’t even belong to her, there was nothing Elmyra could do. 

Aerith suspected the Turks watched her wherever she went, but they generally seemed to prefer to keep out of her business, only making their presence obvious when they were lurking around the church.  Walking through the streets huddled up against Reno, therefore, was not only completely unprecedented but also somewhat nerve-wracking.  Would he take this opportunity to bring her back to the Shinra, while she was quiet and complacent next to him?  If he tried it, Aerith resolved, she would just have to figure out a way to fight him off. 

Evidently Reno didn’t want to risk another black eye, because he behaved himself impeccably all the way home.  He stopped a fair distance away, apparently unwilling to get much closer.  He seemed to be debating saying something to her, and Aerith waited patiently for a moment, wondering what would come out.  She tried to offer him an opening, readying herself to thank him again, but he jumped in before she could begin.  “Look, it’s not my call when to bring you in or nothin’, and it’s not our business where you wander as long as you stay where we can find you.  But… just don’t go getting yourself killed, sis.  It’d be a big headache.” 

For the second time in an hour, Aerith felt a sudden, unprecedented rush of affection for Reno.  


	5. Sixteen

Freyra was a breath of fresh air.  Aerith had been quite nervous of her at first, but the bubbly Turk took to her right away.  Aerith wasn’t sure she would have found Freyra’s open acceptance of her believable if not for Zack, but he had proved to her that for all the evil and corruption in the Shinra, the company was still built on the backs of good, honest people.  Sometimes. 

Freyra reminded Aerith of Zack quite a bit.  She was serious when it came to business, as every Turk was (except maybe Reno – but he was the exception to most Turk rules), but otherwise she was friendly, caring, excitable, and always searching for a way to make things fun.  She seemed to hate nothing more than boredom. 

Aerith would have expected to be more frightened of Freyra, or at least more nervous around her, since she was a Turk like any other.  Like Zack, Freyra was so earnest it was hard for Aerith to dislike her, but it was still surprising that Aerith had become comfortable with her so quickly.  After all, Zack hadn’t told her he was with the Shinra until the end of their impromptu date, when Aerith had already warmed up to him.  Freyra’s affiliations had been obvious from the moment Aerith set eyes on her – the suit was a dead giveaway – but somehow Freyra just wasn’t like the others.  When Aerith had decided to strike off on her own and nearly been captured by some eco-terrorist crazies, Freyra had been the one to help her hide and keep her company for hours while AVALANCHE scoured the area looking for her.  And later, when the coast was clear and Tseng had come butting in, Freyra held him off so Aerith could run home.  Aerith had never met a Turk who would go up against Tseng for her. 

Like Reno, Freyra talked a lot, but unlike Reno the things she said weren’t frightening.  She talked about people, and better yet, about people Aerith knew and was interested to hear more about. 

“Turks are great a keeping secrets, but usually only from the people they don’t like.  Well, it turns out most Turks hardly like anybody, so most of the time things work out.  But that boyfriend of yours… whew,” Freyra said, grinning.  The blonde was lounging indolently in a front-row pew while Aerith tended her flowers. 

“Zack?” Aerith asked, immensely curious.  Zack always had plenty to say, and he was an expressive guy, so Aerith knew they were close, but… he didn’t talk much about himself.  Well, she didn’t either, to be fair, but she had good reason to keep hidden. 

“You and Zack are the only non-Turks I’ve ever met who Tseng actually likes,” Freyra said. 

“Tseng doesn’t like me,” Aerith protested.  “He’s just stuck with me.” 

Freyra eyed her speculatively.  “You think so?  He doesn’t have to let you run wild down here, you know.” 

“I’d be more trouble than I’m worth.  Tell me more about Zack!  I feel like I know him so well, but I don’t know very much _about_ him.” 

Freyra grinned.  “Well… what do you want to know?”

“Everything!”   


	6. Seventeen

It was hard being away from Zack for so long.  They had so little time together to begin with, but all of it had been great fun.  He built her wagon after wagon until he was satisfied with his product, and together they strolled the streets of Midgar, selling flowers and enjoying each other’s company. 

Then Zack left for Nibelheim.  Aerith never saw him again. 

They wrote each other.  Zack told her before he left that he was astonishingly bad at keeping up with letters, revealing that he had only written his parents once since joining SOLDIER, to let them know about her.  If she was important enough to get him to write home, though, he could try to up his letter-writing game for her sake, he said.  She didn’t hear from him for a few days, which she expected – mail could only travel so quickly  – but then suddenly she started to receive a letter every day.  They were short (about the length of Zack’s attention span, Aerith thought wryly), but they were so very reflective of the way he thought and acted that it was almost like having him there with her. 

After a week, the letters stopped coming.  Aerith gave it a month before she cornered Tseng.  “Did he forget about me?” she demanded. 

Tseng was evasive.  “His last mission did not go exactly as planned, and he has been… detained, as a result.  He is probably not at liberty to write you at this time.”

“I’m not asking him to write me confidential mission-pertinent information,” Aerith protested.  “If he just said hi and mentioned he’d been in a snowball fight with that poor trooper he’s always dragging around, that would be enough.  I would know he was alive and still… thinking of me.”

“I am sure he is still thinking of you,” Tseng said in a particular monotone Aerith associated with his attempts to be gentle. 

Aerith sighed.  Zack had always been loyal to her, but she couldn’t forget how quickly he had warmed to her.  He had asked her out after only a few sentences of conversation!  And he was the forgetful type.  Zack made friends everywhere he went, and his attention flitted from person to person like a butterfly visiting flowers.  Aerith couldn’t help but worry that without regular contact, Zack would simply… forget. 

“I wrote him this letter,” Aerith said, holding out an envelope.  “I know you have no reason to help me, but it would mean a lot if you saw that he got it.  Wherever he is.”

Tseng accepted the letter gravely.  “Aerith,” he began, then paused, then began again, “I know you have no reason to trust me.  But… you can put your faith in Zack.  He does deserve it.”   

Aerith had never heard Tseng say anything so nice about anyone in her entire life, and was touched that the first time was about Aerith’s choice of boyfriend.  She just hoped Tseng was right.  


	7. Twenty-One

When she was twenty-one, Tseng decided it was time. He came to her home to tell her, and delivered the news calmly and politely.  He gave her the opportunity to say goodbye to her mother, and made a point of behaving himself in front of Marlene, to the extent he was capable.   

“Despite what you may think of me, I do not enjoy threatening children,” he told her, calm and aloof as always. “She may stay. You must come with me.”

Aerith had never ridden a helicopter before, and the experience was terrifying.  She had always wanted to ride an airship, but that would be a contained environment; the helicopter was open, and she felt like at any second she might fall to her death.  The contraption was far noisier than the trains that rumbled through the city, and the way it lurched through the skies made her stomach churn.  She masked her discomfort behind a face of dignified silence, refusing to display any additional weaknesses to her captors. 

The depth of her anger surprised her more than anything else. She had known this was coming for so long, it was shocking that she could feel so betrayed by it now that it was really happening.  At some point, she must have begun to think things had reached a state of equilibrium: that she could live forever under the sharp watch of the Turks, but it would never amount to anything; that she would never be taken back to the Shinra; that she would never be called upon to lead the way to the Promised Land; that she could trust Tseng. 

She _had_ trusted him, and his Turks.  She had never felt at ease with their surveillance of her, but she had become used to it, accustomed to a way of life characterized by their constant presence – and rare interference.  Tseng had asked her once if she would consider coming with him willingly, and when she had refused, he hadn’t forced the issue.  That was the act of a friend, and that was what Tseng was, in an edgy, uncomfortable way. 

And then he slapped her.  For speaking out of turn, for trying to tell Tifa everything would be ok, for trying to reassure a real friend, he hit her across the face, hard enough to knock her down on an airborne helicopter.

It was not the act of a friend, or of a person she could trust, but it was Tseng, of the Turks.  It was Tseng, and even though he hit her, even though he was taking her back to the Shinra, he was still the man who had looked out for her all these years.  He had offered her a choice once before, and respected her decision then; maybe, despite all appearances, he would give her another choice. 

When he gave Reno the order to drop the plate, Aerith knew there would be no more choices.  She couldn’t imagine what must have happened to change everything: out of nowhere he had come for her after years of leaving her be. After years of trying to convince her to guide him to the Promised Land, to lead everyone to happiness, years of holding out hope that things could be better, he was ordering the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands of innocent people?  Aerith couldn’t rationalize it.  Something had changed.  Tseng had changed.  The plate fell, and Aerith screamed her anguish as they flew away, feeling every last breath and heartbeat of her neighbors and friends.

She was still in shock when they arrived at the Tower, and followed Tseng silently through the hallways, neither able to understand what had just happened nor recognize what was coming to her. Tseng did what he could to look after her, as he always did, but it wasn’t much: by the time she was back in the lab, only her friends in AVALANCHE could help her.  They did, of course, in time; but even after they fled the Shinra together, and Aerith was finally able to leave Midgar, to explore the planet, learn more about herself and her heritage, she wondered about the city and the people she left behind. 

Tseng and his Turks continued to keep watch over her as she traveled the countryside.  Aerith knew he was still hoping she would change her mind and lead him to the Promised Land, but the more she reflected on his actions that day, the more confused she felt.  She and Tseng had found balance once, but something had tipped the scales.  Even knowing she could never go back to her life the way it had been then, Aerith wondered what had caused that change.

Together with Cloud and the others, Aerith finally found her way into the Temple of the Ancients.  She felt floaty and fuzzy and confused and overwhelmed, and tripped over her own feet, stumbling and falling to her knees more than once as she finally opened herself up to her ancestors and the voices she had heard since she was a little girl.  There was a nervous energy flooding over her, and she couldn’t tell what everyone was so upset about.  Something was happening, but they couldn’t explain to her what it was or why it was wrong.

She entered the gate only to find Tseng had beaten her there.  Was this what everyone had been so upset about?  It was Tseng, clear as day, but… he was not the Tseng she knew.  The man lying on the alter was covered in blood and dirt; his breathing was labored; he struggled to stand, and moved with the limp of a man in great pain.  All her life, the Tseng she had known was clean, and strong, and healthy, and now, seeing him here in this condition…

Aerith knew Tseng only let her go because of Sephiroth – the other half-Ancient, the only other person who could guide them to the Promised Land.  Sephiroth was heading there too. 

Even as he lay dying, Tseng possessed his characteristic determination.  He warned them of Sephiroth’s presence in the Temple, and bitterly revealed Sephiroth had never planned to help guide anyone to the Promised Land.  Tseng had been betrayed, his life’s dream shattered, and he laid the blame at Aerith’s feet.  He had never been so unlucky in his life until she ran away from the Shinra, he told them.  And now he was dying, and she was in tears, and none of her friends in AVALANCHE could understand why. 

She had known Tseng since they were both little, and there weren’t many people she could say that about.  In fact, there was probably no one else on the planet who really knew her like Tseng.  She saw him collapse, and turned away as grief overwhelmed her.

His return to the planet was eclipsed by the wordless chatter of the voices of her ancestors, and for a long time after she couldn’t decide if it was better that way or not.  She never found out what happened between them, that day when he finally took her back to the Shinra, but it was a relief to know that in the end he was still on her side, spending his final breath to share information they so direly needed.  He blamed her for his change in luck, but she was still his first priority, as she always had been. 

In the end, nothing had changed after all.


End file.
